Unexpected
by inthenightside
Summary: A fill for a masskink request for some F!Shepard/Turian Councillor action.  Shepard and the turian Councillor are caught on the Citadel by a Reaper attack and have to fight together to escape...and settle their differences one way or another.
1. Chapter 1

This is the result of a prompt from masskink again...

original prompt wanted some Shepard/Turian Councillor action, with them fighting together side by side at some point, and the turian Councillor being quite a badass.

So, here's my take on that. And before anyone calls me out on it, yes, I know there's some dispute on the 'net what his name is and how it's spelled. In my defence I can only say I like this spelling better.

* * *

><p>The ground under Shepard's feet shook from yet another explosion as she picked her way through the corridor. Not for the first time she wondered why the hell she was doing this. The answer was, of course, the same as ever: Because it was necessary.<p>

The attack on the Citadel had come too fast, too unexpected even for Shepard who by now was almost used to planning for worst case scenario. It was worse than last time, where there had been at least a hint of a warning. This time, there were at least three Reapers circling the Citadel like sharks, while one had taken position at the Citadel Tower.  
>The Council fleet hadn't fared as well as last time, either, and she wasn't sure the Destiny Ascension had made its escape through the relay. All she knew was that she'd been shopping for some supplies and information, while the Normandy was off running another errant when the alarms sounded.<br>The Reapers had even sent a message this time, an ultimatum to all organics to leave the Citadel within the span of twenty standard hours. From that point on, it had been the expected panic as everyone was trying to get off the station immediately and at the same time.

She didn't want to think about the things she'd seen in the last few hours. Since the last time the Citadel had been under attack, there had been some changes implemented, and in theory there were evacuation protocols for a moment like this. It never was that easy, of course, not when it was about very many civilians being very scared, not with a population size of several millions.

Shepard wasn't exactly in a position to tell with certainty, but from what she'd been able to see from patching into the vid streams of the Citadel's few remaining VI systems, the Reapers hadn't been interested in the civilians so far. They had torn through the Council fleet readily enough when the fleet had attempted to defend the Citadel, but the Reapers seemed to ignore ships moving away from the Citadel.  
>For now they just wanted the station, and all life forms gone from it. From their point of view, it made sense. They were not in a hurry, and their enmity against organic life wasn't something stemming from any sort of emotion. It wasn't personal, and they were all about efficiency.<br>A Citadel population's worth of frightened fugitives fleeing to the other civilised worlds across the galaxy, spreading panic was an almost fool-proof way to disrupt what little order there was.  
>The balance between the different species in the galaxy was precarious enough; a push like that was almost certainly enough to make them turn on each other again as soon as fear made everyone stop thinking altogether and old-but-not-forgotten grudges and enmities and ambitions resurfaced. If the Reaper played it smart, and showed a measure of patience, the so-called intelligent life forms would do most of their work for them all by themselves.<br>It was a depressing thought. She had done what little she could here, maintaining a semblance of order in her immediate vicinity, shouting at lots of people and hitting a few to make them come to their senses and have them cooperating in some minimal way, but she wasn't sure how much good that had done.  
>There was a small scout ship waiting for her in the lower docks close to the Presidium, with enough modifications that she didn't worry about it being stolen or easily damaged. However, she couldn't make her own escape yet.<p>

Things were bad enough, but maybe the worst could still be avoided, when those that were supposed to be leaders did exactly that. Of course, to do that they needed to be alive.  
>Which brought her to her current problem.<br>There was nothing she could do to help the Council members that were aboard the Destiny Ascension, but they had been one member short when they had been evacuated. Councillor Velarn had reportedly been in his private residence when the attack hit. His quarters were close to the Presidium, of course, and the whole building complex had been badly damaged when the Reaper currently on top of the Citadel Tower had rearranged things to its liking and thrown a few stubborn Fleet warships around.  
>Communication had been down, of course, and there had been no word from him. The sensible assumption was that he was lost.<br>Shepard wouldn't even have tried either, but when she patched into the vidstreams again to at least try and determine the best escape route left, she found that first, the building Velarn was supposed to be in was still standing and second, the whole site was almost overrun by Keepers intent on cleanup.  
>She at least had to take a look, then. If she could save him, she would. He might be an idiot, but he was one idiot people listened to, and this was something that would be needed very soon.<p>

On the way, she had met no other survivors, but whereever she had looked there were Keepers repairing, clearing away rubble, dragging away bodies. She had never seen that many of them, not seen them work so fast. It was almost as if they had been half asleep until now, and woken to activity by the arrival of the Reapers. None of them had paid her any heed, though.  
>Shepard had also determined very soon how the Reapers intended to deal with any citizens left behind. She had been worried that they might simply shut down the station's life support systems altogether, but maybe they didn't want to lose the Keepers yet who were hardy but still dependant on air and moderate temperatures.<br>Instead, they had simply deployed large numbers of husks and let them handle the situation. It wasn't a quick way, but time didn't matter to the Reapers.

She turned around a corner, having almost reached the apartment that was her destination when she was detected.  
>Suddenly the corridor was full of husks.<br>Shepard tossed them a grenade, then scurried to get some distance between them and herself.  
>The resulting blast caught most of them, but a pair of them kept coming, shrieking like banshees. The damned things were fast as ever, and in her face before she had a chance to use the assault rifle on them.<br>She hated when they did that. With a suppressed curse, she reversed her grip on her rifle, slamming the butt of it into the face of one of the husks. The impact made it stagger back, its ugly face a good deal uglier than before, but the second one hit at her with its clawed hands, and she almost lost her feet. She administered her rifle to the second husk's head, and that was enough to drop it.  
>A sharp crack rang out - pistol, her mind supplied immediately - and the first husk went down.<br>She looked up.  
>Just a few steps away, in front of the suite's door was a turian in flat black armour, just lowering his pistol. Unadorned black was unusual, because it meant neither C-sec nor any of the military units she'd come across so far, but she was far from caring about niceties like that anymore. He was alive, and persumably on her side. Her first instinct was to just shout at him to come over and enlist his aid, because another pair of hands capable of holding a gun and pointing it the right way would certainly come in handy when escorting a civilian to safety, in case she could indeed locate the missing councillor. And this one had at least already proven that he could hit a husk at a few paces, at least.<br>His facial markings were vaguely familiar, though.  
>Then her mind caught up to the information provided by her eyes, and her jaw dropped.<br>"Councillor Velarn?"

The superior look he gave her removed all doubts about his identity.  
>"Commander Shepard. This is rather unexpected."<p>

She was still stunned. "Where did you get that armour?" She hadn't meant to blurt that out, but the damage was already done.

"I won it in a competition." he replied coldly, and she couldn't for the life of her tell whether he was being sarcastic or not. Not that it mattered.

"And what precisely are you doing?"

The turian gave a contemptuous snort. "Trying to stay alive for the moment. My apartment went automatically into security lockdown when the attack started and power cut out. I had to wait until power was restored to override the locks and get out. What about you?"

"Trying to rescue you. Everyone's either evacuating the Citadel, already gone or dead, in case it has escaped your notice."

His eyes flashed over her, and she automatically lifted her chin in challenge.

"Where's the rest of your squad?"

"A far way off, unfortunately. I just dropped by the Citadel to pick up some odds and ends and sent the Normandy ahead on some other business when things went pear-shaped. Bad timing."

"Just you, then. In that case, the operative word is, indeed, 'trying'."

"Agreed. As in, you, trying my patience." she snapped back, her annoyance with him drowning out her reason.

He snorted again, but another tremble of the ground under their feet made them both discard the argument for now.

"So what is your plan?" he asked.

"I have a small ship's still in dock, so that's where we're going to go. Which is more than can be said for the Destiny Ascension. They already pulled out. You're probably already listed as dead."

"That's a reasonable assumption, given the circumstances." He was a lot calmer about this than she'd assumed, given that he had been stuck in his home in lockdown for hours.

She gave him another once-over, her mind still having trouble to reconcile her image of the arrogant, permanently irritated politician in fancy, flashy formal clothing with the calm turian in simple armour before her. Well, at least he had kept the arrogance, it seemed.

"What?" he snapped, aware of her look.

"Nothing. Let's go."


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard's HUD came alive, warning her of movement ahead. No way around or chance to avoid them, either. "I hope you're any good with that pistol, if it should become necessary, because we're going to have company."

Velarn snorted. "Don't worry about me."

Shepard bit back the obvious reply that she had no intention of doing so. "Just stay back."  
>They rounded another corner, and came upon the remnants of a fight. Dead husks, a number of motionless C-sec personnel, turian and human, on the ground, a handful of still live husks. She was ready this time and got them before they could close in, and she was somewhat satisfied that Velarn really kept a bit back. She remembered now that all turians spent some time in mandatory military service, so if she really was lucky, maybe he had at least gone through basic training before starting his political career with whatever desk job they would have given to someone the likes of him. Not that that helped much; even if he had some idea of what he was doing, armed with just a pistol he was outclassed, and she wasn't about to part with her assault rifle or the missile launcher and didn't carry spares.<p>

She knew it was probably useless, but she had to check the C-secs for signs of life.  
>As it turned out, there were none, but that hardly counted as a surprise.<p>

"I'm surprised that your turian companion isn't with you." Velarn's voice shook her out of her grim thoughts.

"He's in command of the Normandy now, and doing another job I need done." she replied. She didn't allow herself to worry about him right now. She couldn't become distracted.

"He let you go on your own? With all the rumours about the two of you, that's hard to believe." Velarn commented as he came closer.

"I don't know what you've heard, and frankly, I don't care much either way, but we're professionals. He knows how to take orders."

"Yes. I can believe that."

"I wasn't under the impression that what I do when off-duty is of any relevance to anyone except the persons involved. Neither do I believe that you have any grounds if you accuse me of letting my private life affect my duties, so I really don't see how that is any of your concern, and I don't appreciate the snide remarks, either. However, you might go easy on the scorn here, or I'll feel tempted to bring your private life into the discussion, too." Shepard pointed out mildly. There were some details she might mention that weren't common knowledge, after all. There had been a certain drone in the residence of one of her lesser known allies that had revealed quite a lot of details about the personal life of many persons of public interest, up to and including the Council. If he wanted to get personal, she was well armed with potentially embarassing facts.

The councillor gave her a distrustful look, but shut up.

She watched him bend over the body of the turian C-sec officer. He was saying something she couldn't quite catch, then he picked up the fallen officer's rifle. She didn't object. If it made him feel any better, she could live with that.

Velarn straightened up again, and they resumed their pace.  
>"Why did you come?" he asked, and his tone held only curiosity for once.<p>

Shepard considered, then thought the hell with it. "You remember when you dismissed my claims about Reapers when I came back after my ...temporary leave of absence?" At his nod, she continued. "Well, I gave myself a promise that when worst comes to worst, as it always does, and the Reapers come to play, I'd drag you to safety on my ship, mach you on the bridge, let you have a good look at the first Reaper we can find and be finally able to tell you I told you so. Well, we have one of the damned things sitting on the Citadel tower again and a small swarm of them circling the Citadel, so that part's already covered."

To her surprise, he laughed, a sharp bark of laughter. She hadn't heard that sound from him before, and, in all honesty, hadn't expected ever to.  
>"I assume this is edited for my sake. Just saying 'I told you so' isn't really in character for you, given your temperament"<p>

Shepard couldn't suppress a grim grin. "There might have been a kick in the arse in the more detailed plans for that scenario, yes, but I didn't want to get lost in too much detail."

Velarn's mandibles twitched. "You realise that that plan of yours depends on the both of us reaching the Normandy alive?"

"Sure. Telling 'I told you so' to your corpse wouldn't hold half the satisfaction."

The turian growled. "I might have been wrong about the threat of the Reapers. I'm not apologising for that. It sounded insane, and you never had any proof." He didn't quite hang his head as he amended "Wishing for things to be different is of no use now."

Shepard avoided looking at him. "In a way, I even can see your point. But in all fairness, I was a bit too busy fighting geth, a mind-controlled turian Spectre and the genetically modified descendants of what used to be the Protheans most of the time to take the time making a vid documentary. When I wasn't busy being dead for a couple of years, of course."

His head snapped around at her. "I was right about one thing, though. You are crazy. And you don't even know the meaning of proper conduct, protocol and respect." he snarled, sounding like his normal self again.

"I'm a Spectre." she reminded him. "Crazy helps. Protocol and proper conduct, not so much. And my respect is earned, not given."

Velarn just shook his head in exasperation at that.  
> <p>


	3. Chapter 3

They continued on their way, meeting no resistance on the way. The main trouble was there was severe damage to the station itself, and they found their way blocked again and again by collapsed walls and debris. It had been slow progress, and Shepard was painfully aware that they were running out of time.  
>Still, things didn't look too bad until they were in sight of the docks.<br>She stopped, and so did he.  
>"Well. That's going to be a problem." she said, regarding the scene before them with a sinking feeling. "The scout ship in the second bay is mine." The ship was still intact as far as she could tell from this distance, as were the other two a bit farther away. She didn't want to think about their crews. The fact that there even were ships left was as surprising as it was depressing. Not for the first time she wondered just how many casualties the Citadel had suffered so far.<br>The problem she'd indicated was that the dock was crawling with enemies. Shepard counted one scion, four collector drones and a small army of husks.

"And there I was thinking I'd seen the last of those." she muttered, giving the collectors a nasty look. "Seems we missed some. What a shame."

Velarn was studying the enemy as well. "What precisely is that abomination?" he asked, nodding his head at the scion.

"It's a scion, not an abomination." At his confused look, she shrugged. "Never mind. Think heavy armour, biotic shockwave attack, slow and stupid but with quite a punch."

He snorted. "Well, they are in our way, and we can't avoid them. They don't show any signs of getting ready to move either."

Shepard gave him a look. "You mean for us to fight our way through there." she said slowly, considering the situation.

"It's not like it's my personal preference, but do you see any other way?" he snapped.

She sighed, then shook her head. Time wasn't on their side, so he had a point. She didn't really care to face that kind of odds on her own, but she saw no other way out of it.

"Is there anything else I need to know about these creatures?"

"About the collectors...if one of them begins to get all glowy and starts talking, run."

His expression was disdainful. "Why?"

"Because that's what they look like when they're controlled by the Reaper, and they are rather tough in that state."

Velarn growled, his eyes flashing an angry green. "I don't appreciate your attempts at humour."

Shepard shrugged. "And you don't have to laugh, either. But for further reference, I was being serious. If we are unlucky you'll see the truth of that for yourself soon enough."

The turian tossed his head, angrily. "Fine. Now hand me the ML-77."

Shepard turned towards him. "Excuse me?"

"The missile launcher you are carrying." he replied, his voice clipped with impatience. "The device currently strapped across your back, in case you don't know what I'm referring to."

She closed her eyes briefly to count to twenty in several languages, then opened them again when she was reasonably certain she wasn't going to strangle him on impulse. Shouting at him probably wouldn't work. Unfortunately, past experience had shown that reason hadn't worked on him so far, either. He was stubborn as hell, that much she knew of him. They had that much in common, after all.  
>"We don't have time for this." she said, still fighting for calm.<p>

"Precisely."

She gave him a hard stare that he returned just the same. "Can you even handle that thing?"

Velarn snorted. "Try me."

Shepard regarded him soberly. It was clear that he wasn't going to stay out of this. Right now, the last thing she needed was a half-trained civilian with an unfamiliar weapon somewhere behind her who was just as likely to hit her or blow himself up than do any damage to the enemy.  
>Then again, maybe he could at least provide some distraction. So far, he'd held up far better under pressure than she'd have any right to expect.<br>And if it made him feel safe enough to stay out of her way and give her at least a chance to keep the two of them alive, then maybe it was worth it.  
>"Fine." She removed the missile launcher and handed it to him. "If that's what it takes to make you stay on the sidelines. Sync comm." She waited until he had done so, then continued. "Try to hit the scion if you can. First, we need to get rid of the husks, though."<p>

Velarn inspected the missile launcher briefly, then attached it to his own armour and unfolded his assault rifle.  
>"So you can be sensible, too. That's something. I've been starting to wonder how you survived that long."<p>

She didn't rise to that now. "All right. I'll draw the husks. Stay back. I'll do my best to keep them from you, but if they make it past me, don't let them swarm you." She surveyed the dock again. "If you can make it to my ship without being seen, all the better. Course's pre-programmed. If you have any chance at all to get the hell out of here, take it and don't wait up for me. You got that?"

He seemed vaguely surprised, but nodded once. She turned her back on him and started forward.

The dock provided plenty of cover, with cargo crates stacked high and parts of the walls and walkways collapsed, but even so it didn't take long until she was spotted. She grimaced as the husks started moving, and tossed them her last two grenades.  
>After that, of course, it was chaos.<br>Her combat scanner went crazy for a while, then quieted down to static, useless for the time being. Apparently either the collectors or the scion were capable of jamming its sensors.  
>Then again, she had no trouble at all finding targets.<br>It was worse than she thought. She simply had no time to look out for the councillor, not when she found herself hip-deep in husks. She dashed in and out of cover madly, taking down husks with short, aimed bursts with the assault rifle, while dodging incoming collector fire on the side. It would have been easier if she could have moved more freely, but Velarn was somewhere behind her, and she had to keep their opponents more interested in her than him.  
>She stopped counting husks after a while.<br>From time to time she half heard the sound of another assault rifle, so she assumed Velarn was still in the game.

For a short while, she even allowed herself some hope, then the first shockwave of the scion hit, throwing her backwards into the stack of large cargo crates she'd been using as a cover and taking her shields down completely.  
>She cursed, retreating into cover as fast as she could, just barely evading the scion's fire. A single husk disputed her claim to her current position, but she dispatched that one without any trouble. Husks were deadly in numbers, but mostly they were a distraction from the real threats.<br>She stayed down, waiting for her shields to regenerate while the scion and the collectors kept steady fire on. They had her pinned, and she couldn't fight off the husks properly while she had to stay in cover like this.  
>A missile hit the ground somewhere ahead, uncomfortably close to her, and she cursed. The councillor apparently had finally discovered the trigger on the missile launcher.<br>"Velarn, I told you to try to hit the scion. Not me, damnit!"

"It's tempting, I admit it," his voice came back over the comm, "but actually I just dispersed the husks currently closing in on your position. Keep your head down for a moment."

She barely managed to keep from pointing out that obviously she wasn't able to do anything else anyway when another two missiles hit in rapid succession.

"There. That should give you some room to breathe."

The fire on her position lessened, so presumably the scion had become interested in the turian. There were more missile hits, further away, and her combat scanner came out of its silence for a few moments, insistently warning of something big, too close, before shorting out again.  
>Shepard risked a look, then went down again hastily as collector rounds went by overhead. The scion was closer than she'd have thought.<p>

"Shepard, as soon as your shields are on full capacity again, move out from there, and fall back."

She looked around. She was closed in from two sides at least, and the next opportunity for cover was way back, a large, high stack of crates. Too far. She'd be exposed to fire for too long.  
>"I don't think so. If it hits me with another shock wave, its little friends will get me with my shields down out in the open."<p>

She heard his snarl, slightly distorted by the comm. "No they won't. I just need its attention on something else but me for a bit. It prefers you as a target for some reason."

She cursed under her breath. If that suggestion had come from one of her squad, she would have tried. With Velarn, though...she didn't know him, didn't trust in his abilities. Didn't trust him, period.

"Shepard, damn it, do what you're told for once. I can keep them off your back."

Shepard shook her head. He was almost certainly getting her killed. Then again, the scion already was too close. She had to move away anyway.  
>"I swear to you, if you get me killed like this my spirit will come back to haunt you."<p>

He snorted. "Your living self is testing the limits of my patience enough. Let's attempt to avoid that outcome, then."

She sighed, took a deep breath and then broke out of cover. It went precisely as she had predicted. She had made it perhaps halfway back into cover, the sounds of gunfire and missiles in her ears, when the shockwave hit. Her kinetic shields fizzled and died, and the impact threw her even a bit into the right direction, but she was down for a moment. Shepard rolled to her feet quickly enough, expecting the scion at least to hit her any second now, but another explosion and a hair-raising wail from that direction let her knew that the scion had other problems to consider right now.

"Move!" Velarn's voice was still supremely annoyed.

She wished she would have had breath to spare, but she had to concentrate on moving, and just barely made it into cover when another missile hit, and the scion's wailing was cut short.  
>She waited a few beats, until her breathing returned to something more normal, then cautiously leaned around the crates to have a look.<br>The scion was down, no longer moving.  
>Apparently, Velarn had taken it down. She blinked. Those hadn't been lucky hits either.<p>

Movement too close to her shook her out of thinking, and yet another husk approached in that shambling run they had. She snarled and lifted her rifle. but suddenly something large and black dropped down directly on the husk.  
>Shepard knew husks to be rather resilient, but a turian in heavy armour jumping down from a stack of crates several meters high proved to have enough mass to simply knock it down. She watched Velarn follow up with a vicious stomp of an armoured boot to the husks head, and it stopped moving.<br>The turian looked down at the husk, teeth bared in a snarl of contempt, and Shepard was once again very graphically reminded why turians were compared to birds of prey sometimes. That move would had been worthy of a hawk.  
>"That should be the last of those." Velarn stated.<p>

Shepard was still staring at him.

"Velarn."

"Yes?"

"Your armour. You said you won it in a competition."

"I did. I was referring to the tryouts for the specialist unit I used to be in." His mandibles twitched into something that in a person less obsessed with formalities definitely would have had to be named a smirk. "You didn't enquire about the exact set I am wearing, after all."

She suppressed a groan. "And of course you do have heavy weapons training. So, what unit would that have been?"

"That's classified. From what I've seen from your file, however, I'd say my training was comparable to yours."

"You could have told me earlier." she said, in as normal a tone as she could manage.

"That's what I did. I said I can take care of myself and that you don't have to worry about me. You didn't believe me, and you never even though to ask any further."

She ignored that jab. "You jeopardised us both here. I was trying to defend you, and that limited what I could do. I would have played this very differently otherwise."

"And now you know better. You're alive and won't make this mistake again. And I had your back covered, didn't I? I don't see you having any grounds for complaint here." His tone was dismissive. "You're just irritated that you misjudged me."

There was no use in getting into an argument then and there, as satisfying as that would have been. And his last comment had absolutely no grounds in reality either. Then again, what else could she expect from him.  
>She just shook her head and returned her full concentration to the battlefield.<p>

The collectors were on the move again, closing in, and she fired at one of them, managing do do some damage before she had to seek cover again.  
>Her combat scanner was jammed still, but when she came up again for another try at the wounded collector, she saw something black moving in her peripheral vision. Velarn was moving forward again. He went into cover again just a short distance ahead, behind a large chunk of debris that looked like part of the walkways that had been running alongside the docks far up.<br>She fired at the collector, taking some hits on her shields again, and Velarn choose the same target. Another of them scored a few hits on Velarn, but his shields held, although she could hear his annoyed snarl at this presumption.

Then one of the remaining collectors stilled in that particular way, and Shepard shouted a warning. "Velarn! Fall back, we have a Reaper listening in."

He didn't answer, but for once he didn't argue as he put some distance between himself and the transforming collector.

"You will know pain, Shepard."

Shepard resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Hello to you too, Harbinger. Can't say I missed you. That you up on the Citadel Tower?" She fired at the controlled drone.

Velarn ducked as the collector took a shot at him.

"Turian; you are considered...too primitive."

The councillor snarled. "What did it just say?"

"Don't take it personal." Shepard said in a consoling voice that was exactly the right tone to annoy the turian further.

His mandibles drew back from his teeth as stood again and opened fire. "I dismiss that claim."

Shepard grimaced. "Please tell me you didn't just say that."

Velarn ignored her, just as he ignored several hits that were stopped by his shields. He switched to the missile launcher and fired two missiles at the collector. That did it for this incarnation of Harbinger, and for once it dropped without uttering another threat.

Another collector rose up in front of them, and Shepard took aim again. "Oh no, you don't."  
>She kept a steady barrage of fire on it, intent on taking it down fast enough to give Harbinger no time to make another appearance.<br>The councillor stepped in to help, but then she heard him snarl and say something her translator didn't catch. From the tone of it. it probably was better that way, too. She had no time to look, however, and kept the collector under fire.  
>Finally it dropped, and she slammed a fresh heatsink into her rifle, turning to see how Velarn was doing.<p>

The turian was currently fighting off a collector that had somehow flanked them and closed in on him. She cursed briefly, already in motion to help him out. They were too close, and she couldn't risk firing at the collector.  
>The collector clawed at the turian, grappling, and she heard Velarn grunt in a mixture of rage and pain. The turian kicked at his opponent, succeeding in dislodging the collector and sending it backwards. By now, Shepard was in range and a hard hit with her rifle butt sent the collector staggering back further. She jumped back in the same instant, putting some distance between them and reversed her grip on her rifle again. At almost point blank distance, even the collectors shields and armour weren't of much use, especially as Velarn followed suit.<br>She ceased fire when she was certain the collector wasn't of an consequence anymore and looked around. The dock was quiet, and she couldn't detect any more hostiles.

Shepard took a deep breath. "Right. Let's get the hell out of here."


	4. Chapter 4

The small scout ship tore free from the docking clamps as Shepard kicked on the engines. She winced at the sound as the clamps broke, but at least the hull of the ship remained intact. Velarn was standing behind her seat, presumably staring ahead with about the same expression that she had. She didn't care to look.  
>She took the ship in a spiral around the Reaper still perched on the Citadel Tower. The area was full of floating debris from the Citadel and wreckage from ships that had either tried to fight back or crashed into each other on the way out. She didn't want to think about it. For the moment these were just obstacles to navigate around.<p>

"Reaper." Velarn said in a rather strangled voice, perhaps intending it as a warning that she was coming too close.

"I know." Shepard snapped, feeling a sense of deja-vu though she couldn't tell why. "Don't worry. We're too small, it's not interested in us. Yet." She hoped she sounded more certain of that than she really felt. Shepard was almost certain it was watching them, but that was probably just her nerves and her imagination. She still thought that that one was Harbinger, although of course there was no way to be certain of that.  
>"But if you're feeling talkative, tell me why a member of the Citadel council would have that sort of military career in his past."<br>She breathed the slightest bit easier when they were out of immediate reach of the Reaper, passing the partially closed wards of the Citadel.

He did show some nerves at her question. "You really believe this is the right time for discussing my background?" he asked, incredulously.

"Just curious. And you played me for a fool there."

Velarn snorted at that. "It's not even unusual, for all it's worth. The Citadel Council can act as war leaders, too, if necessary, as you should well know. Any turian in a position like that will have a sound military career in his background. How else could we lead, and how else could we expect our soldiers to follow us?" He snorted. "Humans might stand for being led by someone who has no idea about what a battlefield is like. Turians wouldn't. Besides, it hasn't been that long since conflicts between my own people were resolved by personal combat between the leaders of the warring factions." He had a point there. "Still...it's quite a career move from whatever special unit you were in to a purely political position like that." she commented as she took them past the immense bulk of one of the other Reapers. It wasn't as if she had much choice of that, she had to dodge enough debris from what was left of the Council fleet as it was.

"Do you really think so? The battlefield looks different, the weapons are different, but the battles are the same, and so are the stakes. And in both cases, any mistake will cost you and the people you're responsible for."

She hadn't thought of it quite this way, and nodded after a moment's thought. "Well, I don't know how long you have been out of active duty, but you sure as hell haven't lost much skill. That was some nice fighting there."

He snorted, dismissively, but then replied, a bit calmer. "Likewise. I can see now how you stayed alive for as long as you did, at least." She heard him shift his stance behind her. "Shepard, I know you meant for me to see a Reaper up close and personal, but that's taking to a bit too literal, don't you think?" He did sound unnerved, and she couldn't blame him.

"Better than hitting the wreckage over there. "she pointed out. "Anyway, it's not taking any notice of us."

Then they were past the hulking shape of the Reaper, and she kicked up acceleration to the max as she aimed the ship into the relay's direction. "Hold on."  
>Shepard had to evade some more large pieces of debris, but she didn't take down speed as they came at the relay at far too high speed. Her calm wasn't limitless, after all.<p>

The relay flared to life, which removed her lingering doubt of whether the relay had been deactivated somehow.  
>Then the mass relay caught hold of the ship, throwing it through space and effectively out of reach of their opponents.<p>

Velarn looked still stunned as space turned normal again outside. "Where did you take us?"

"Just the rendezvous point, to have the Normandy pick us up. We'll have to wait a few hours, though. I'm early, courtesy of that Reaper."  
>She got out of the pilot's seat and made her way back into the interior of the scout ship. It was just a small room, with some storage compartments and a couple of additional seats that folded into the bulkhead if not in use.<br>Shepard removed her weapons, packing them away into one of the storage compartments, and the turian joined her after some brief hesitation. Then she got a med pack from another.  
>"We're relatively safe here, by the way. I doubt that there are many who know this destination."<p>

He didn't reply, leaning against the bulkhead. He seemed to consider the seats for a moment, then dismissed that option and just sat down on the deck, back still to the bulkhead.

Shepard sighed. "Now, let's take a look at you."

Velarn gave her a haughty stare. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're hurt."

He shook his head, impatiently. "It's just a scratch."

"Right." She snorted. "Stop being an idiot about it." She crouched down beside him and reached for the clasps of his armour.

He snarled, and took a swipe at her hand. "Keep your hands off me."

She caught his wrist, held it for a moment before he wrenched it free from her grip. "Stop that. I assure you I know what I'm doing."

"Yes, I'm sure of it."

"And here we go again with the scorn." she said, fighting for patience. "Yes, I do have a companion who happens to be a turian. Get used to it. And contrary to what you are implying, I was referring to the fact that I patched him up again several times when he got hurt. Now let me help you, damnit."

He said something her translator refused to interpret, which was interesting, but stopped resisting as she pulled the middle section of his armour off. His undersuit was damaged at chest height, and stained with blue, so she removed it as well. The claws of Harbinger's vessel had cleanly punched through his armour, leaving deep furrows on the dark brown plates on the left side of his torso before they'd sunk into the softer skin in the gaps between the diagonal plates. The gashes were deep and would scar, but from what she could see he carried some scars already. so that probably wasn't a new experience for him. He was still bleeding from the punctures in the softer tissue, but only sluggishly.  
>Shepard judged his injuries to be painful, but nowhere life-threatening. All in all, that could have been much worse, and she could at least stop worrying about having him drop dead from some more severe damage he might have kept hidden.<br>She got the medigel out and applied it to the wounds, waiting for the bleeding to come to a stop, then bound him up with a flexible light grey bandage from her kit. The medigel would numb the pain, too, so he'd need another excuse if his bad mood continued. She regarded her work critically.  
>"Not quite your colour, but it will do for the moment."<p>

He snorted, but the tone was different.

She gave him a quick look, one hand still resting on the plates on his chest. He was warm to the touch, as was normal for a turian, and very tense. Too tense, in fact.

"Fair enough. Now remove your hands from my person before I do something we both will regret."

Shepard's eyes widened. His tone was as sneering as ever, and the words certainly could be interpreted as a threat.  
>It was the interpretation he wanted her to have, though. He was too much charged up from fighting, still on edge, and that energy had to go somewhere. It wasn't uncommon with turians to react that way. It did happen that they sometimes couldn't wind down on their own, especially when they'd been hurt. Sometimes they needed a good spar with another turian to get the violence out of their systems again. Sometimes it was a tumble with a crew mate. It was considered a rather normal reaction for a healthy turian, and they weren't precisely ashamed of it, but it was some sort of rule that what happened between soldiers in a situation like this was of no further consequence and not really subject to discussion. It was some sort of instinct. You dealt with it, and that was it. Sensible, in her opinion. She had to determine whether he was going to be a problem here, though. Given their history, he might attack her, and there wasn't enough room on the ship to stay out of his way.<br>"Right now, are you out for my blood? Do you mean to attack me?" she asked him bluntly.

He met her eyes, a haughty green stare. "No, of course not." he snapped, then he blinked as he tried to determine what she was getting at.  
>"Good. The difference isn't always easy to tell, with you turians." she said. It was the other option, then.<p>

"What the hell are you-" he started, but she cut him off.

"Shut up. I know about that part of your species' behaviour. It's not completely unknown in humans as well." She let him process that for a few seconds. "So." She took a deep breath. "If you were to express some temporary interest, I wouldn't refuse. Either way, this will never be mentioned again once we're off this ship."

Velarn growled, but it wasn't a threat now as he gave her a considering look. At least he didn't insult her intelligence by pretending he had no idea what she was talking about. "Agreed."

She met his eyes again, and the slow burn that had been in her own blood so far flared up into real desire. With a few sparse motions, she opened the seals on her own armour, setting the piece aside. Her undersuit followed, leaving them on quite equal terms as she leaned closer. He bared his teeth in a silent snarl as he kept his hands flat on the ground, wanting to touch, but fighting that urge. "Why?" he ground out.

Shepard gave her best impression of an innocent look. "Technically you're my superior, aren't you? I can hardly refuse my commanding officer's orders." She trailed a hand over his fringe. He tensed again but wasn't distracted.

Obviously her best wasn't good enough. "You never follow orders without questioning. It's one of your most infuriating traits." he snapped. "And stop giving the impression of meekness, it really doesn't fool anyone, least of all me. I want to hear the real reason."

That made her grin. "It was worth a try. Well. I may not have a thing for turians in general, but there are some exceptions." She chuckled. "Wouldn't have considered it before this, but you're not the pompous fool I had taken you for." He glared at that, but he'd demanded honesty and was getting exactly that. "You're a damned good fighter when it comes down to it, you do what you think is right, not what is easy. We probably never will see things the same way, but nevertheless, I respect you."

He was still glaring, although from the set of his eyeridges he seemed a bit thoughtful, too. And he was still waiting for her answer.

She smiled. "And maybe because I just want to."

He actually laughed at that. "Yes. That now I can believe." Then his expression changed into something else, which was all the warning she had when he moved, quick as the predator he was, pulling her close.

There was no finesse to it, but then didn't have to be. She gripped the bony structure of his collar as he wrapped his gloved fingers around her waist, holding her in place for a moment. He growled, then thrust against her hard, entering her fully in a single stroke.  
>It was anything but gentle, and if she had been surprised at the suddenness of this, or any less aroused, that would, without any doubt, have been painful. As matters were, it was quite the opposite, although she still was breathless for a second, her body trying to adjust to him. He didn't quite give her the time to, but that, again, was not unexpected. She understood very well that he wasn't intentionally trying to hurt her, or being exceptionally rough. It was just that he was treating her like a fellow turian soldier. In a way, that was more of a concession than it would have been if he'd held back on account of her being human, and more fragile.<p>

Fragile, she wasn't, and she could play that game just as well. Her fingernails cut into the softer skin on the inner side of his collar, and he snarled in reaction.  
>He set a rough pace, and she matched him thrust for thrust, pleasure building inside her. Velarn's eyes were brighter than usual, a positively feral expression in them, but she met them fearlessly.<br>And the temptation to push him further was simply irresistible.

"Done playing nice, aren't you?" She wrapped her legs around his hips, then kicked herself clear of the bulkhead, taking him with her in a sideways roll that ended with him underneath her. He'd been too surprised to make a counter move.  
>"That's fine. So am I." she told him.<p>

She couldn't tell from his expression whether he was angry or amused or just turned on, but it hardly mattered. His hands shifted, fingers digging into her shoulder blades as he drew her close. It brought her into closer contact with the plating on his lower abdomen, the ridges there sliding against her clit.  
>The pleasure of that was so intense that she went rigid, and that was when he flipped them over without even breaking his rhythm.<br>Then he was over her, pinning her down with one hand on her left shoulder, elbow against her arm, and most of his weight behind it. Her own armour protected her from any crushing damage, so that didn't hurt, but he had her partially immobilised.  
>She struggled, instinctively.<p>

It wasn't that she had any objections to what he was doing, but this came over as rather dominating, and that wasn't something she usually tolerated. There might be an exception to that rule, but he hadn't earned that right yet.  
>With most of his armour on, he considerably outweighed her, but despite that, she got the soles of her boots flat against the deck, and heaved against him, nearly succeeding in dislodging him.<p>

He snarled, regained his balance and swiped her left leg from under her. Armour scraped against armour as he trapped her leg with his own, his knee against her thigh. His free hand slid to the small of her back, holding her close to him in just the right angle to get that ridge into play again. For a moment, she saw black spots in her vision, and she decided that he might have earned that exception, after all. Being held down like that was a novel experience, one that she found she enjoyed, right now, in this context. She hooked her free leg over his hips, drawing another snarl from him.

He ground against her again, and this time she didn't quite keep from giving a moan. His reply was a low sound that wasn't anything that had a human equivalent, and he held her even tighter against him, increasing the friction.  
>Even caught up in the moment as she was a more distant part of her mind felt amusement at that. That wasn't something that would do much for a turian woman, which proved several things. First, he wasn't that far gone that he didn't know anymore who and what she was. Second, he had at least theoretical knowledge about human females, which made her wonder. And third, he obviously needed her to enjoy this, which was, maybe, the only real surprise.<br>She could oblige him there, of course. Especially as he already was doing such a nice job at it. It wasn't surrender, of course, but she found she was suddenly in the mood to just enjoy herself. She relaxed, no longer trying to cling to him, trusting him to hold her, which apparently took him completely by surprise.

His eyes widened, and he drew breath to speak, maybe, but she met his eyes again with a smirk. "If you stop now, I promise I will kill you. Painfully. Consequences be damned."

Velarn's fierce expression darkened in some subtle way. "You're a Spectre. Under direct Council command, if I may remind you. Which I happen to be a part of. Therefore that sort of threat is highly inappropriate." Something changed in his voice as well, but she couldn't quite define it. "I think I have had enough of your insolence. You do need a reminder of who is in command. And most importantly, you really need to shut up."

Shepard did feel a flash of worry at that. If she had pushed him too far, she might be in trouble. He had never shown any real sense of humour, or given indication that he even understood the concept. Then he thrust against her again, and she was beyond caring about anything else. She threw her head back, arching against him. His growl was oddly satisfied, but she had no time to wonder about this she felt his teeth close around her throat. She yelped, confused, but had just enough sense left not to try to tear free in pure reflex.

It was completely unexpected, and while she wasn't precisely scared, she wasn't sure how to react to this, either. He hissed, and thrust into her, faster and harder than before, and she arched again, whimpering. The she felt the tips of his teeth press into her throat, and strangely enough that finally set her off. She came against him, hard, any sounds that she might have made somehow silenced by that hold he had on her, her climax intense and raw and almost violent.

She whimpered again, the feel of his plates against her suddenly too intense.

He kept his hold on her throat but eased his grip on the small of her back, lowering her down, then pushed himself into her once more, almost gently. Without her conscious thinking, her right hand found its way to the back of his neck, cradling the back of his head. Velarn gave a strange sound that was far too soft to be called a snarl or growl, then shuddered against her as he found his own release.  
>He was still only for a moment, then released her throat and rolled off her, taking his weight off her shoulder and leg. He sat up, then regarded her, expression a bit strange.<p>

Shepard stretched and sat up as well. She rubbed her throat briefly, but he hadn't broken the skin, and that part of her was whole. The same couldn't be said for her torso, though; she had a rather interesting collection of scrapes and bruises. No surprise there, turian plates were rougher than human skin, and armour was even worse. She swallowed a grin; in all likelihood she was going to feel the reminders of their recent activities for a day or two, but that wasn't any problem.  
>She considered Velarn for a moment, noting with some relief that his bandages were still in place. At least he hadn't managed to hurt himself further. And he seemed to have calmed down, as much as he ever did. Mission accomplished, and in such a nice way, too.<p>

He was still watching her, though. "What?" she asked, as she successfully located her undersuit.

"Are you hurt?" he finally asked, his mandibles twitching.

"No." she replied.

Apparently, he didn't quite believe her, as he stripped off his right glove and ran his bare hand over her side. He seemed puzzled by something, and applied a bit more pressure to her flesh.

"Careful, I'm ticklish." she warned.

"You have subdermal weaving." he stated, sounding surprised.

"And muscle weave, and bone weave. All courtesy of Cerberus." She grinned. "Very handy in a fight, but as you see it can have its uses in strictly private situations, too. Which, incidentally, is a fact that I was only too happy to report back to Cerberus."

Velarn blinked. "You reported to Cerberus that the modifications they gave you aided you in your relations with your turian crew member."

"My wording was different and most certainly less polite, but, yes, that was it. Their leader didn't quite expire from apoplexy, but it was a good start, and who knows, I might be able to improve on that. Now, what is really on your mind?"

He just growled, replacing his glove. "I shouldn't have held you by the throat. You weren't in any danger from me, but I shouldn't have done that. I lost my temper."

She shrugged. "We seem to have that effect on each other. You forgot for a bit that I was human, didn't you." He didn't reply, and she gave him a lopsided smile. "I take that as a compliment. Don't worry about it." She went back to the task of getting dressed again.

He snorted, back to this usual self. "You will never take anything seriously, will you?"

Since she was currently busy with refastening her undersuit, she had a good reason not to look at him. "Not true. There are lots of things I take seriously. Promises, for one thing. Duty, for another." She reached for the rest of her armour. "I take a Spectre's job, as in keeping the galaxy safe, very seriously."

There was a pause, then she heard his voice, rather low. "I know that. I take back what I said. I still maintain that you lack discipline, and diplomacy, and maybe common sense. I cannot, however, find fault in your courage, spirit or dedication to duty. Maybe I misjudged you, too."

Her head came up at this, and she stared at him again, surprised, but he wasn't even looking at her. Instead, he was just closing the clasps holding the armour over his chest in place, staring at the damaged sections with open disdain.

"So." he said, looking at her again. "What's the plan now?"

"We wait some more." she replied. An alarm sounded from the cockpit, and she was on her feet and over in a moment. "Or not." she amended, lips curling into a slight grin as she watched the familiar lines of the Normandy as the frigate just cleared the relay.


	5. Chapter 5

The small scout ship was stored away alongside the Kodiak in the Normandy's bay, and Shepard made her way past various crew into CIC, Velarn close behind.  
>Garrus was standing in front of the galaxy map, regarding her calmly. "Really, Commander. I know that your shopping trips tend to end in disaster, but that's extreme even for you."<p>"You know how it is." she answered easily, coming to stand beside him. She suppressed a smile.<p>

"I know. We were a bit worried, though."

She brushed her hand against his for a moment, which was all the reassurance she could give at this time and in this place, but he understood perfectly anyway.

Garrus lifted his head and gave Velarn an appraising look, then settled for a polite nod. He didn't show any surprise at seeing the Councillor in armour.  
>"Councillor. The Destiny Ascension has made it safely through the relay. Your fellow Council members are unharmed."<p>

Shepard reached for the controls, changing the display to display a holographic projection of the immediate area around them. The mass relay was active, and ships were coming through in rapid succession.

Velarn regarded the display, giving an alarmed growl, but Shepard shook her head. "No. It's fine. They're on our side."

"I see. You made alliances." He watched the display some more, then added. "Several alliances."

Shepard nodded. "So I did. Now, this will take a while, and we need to do some planning, so let's take this to the comm room. "

Garrus went without hesitation, but Velarn was watching her with a distinctly distrustful expression. He seemed to be waiting for something.

She kept her face absolutely straight as she brushed past him and said in a low voice. "Oh, I almost forgot: 'I told you so.'"

He growled, a perfectly insulted sound, but she had heard the real thing from him often enough, and that wasn't it. "What, no public declaration in front of your whole crew?" he replied in the same low voice, falling into step beside her.

She quirked her lips. "I'm vengeful, Councillor, not petty. Now, let's go. We need to figure out how to fix this mess." 


End file.
